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5 thoughts on “Mind Room”

In Schippol Airport, in Amsterdam, there are moving walkways. Instead of having monsters with teeth at the end, lurking in wait of toes, theirs has a gap between the belt conveying people and their baggage, and the hard floor. So instead of losing just one’s toes, one could be sucked lock, stock, and barrel, right down into the bowels of the sewer system of Amsterdam where junkies await you grinning with needles…And all the while an impassive recorded female voice repeats endlessly: “Mind the gap. Mind the gap. Mind the gap.”

Notwithstanding the gap, I wonder what would happen if you were to add another storey to your house of the mind? One in which I could come to visit you, mounting to the next invisible floor, say, on a more friendly moving walkway that would stop when I said so, and thus be able to stay for a bit and visit without stepping on your thoughts and dreams?

Reblogged this on Bipolar For Life and commented:
One of the most touching and thought provoking poems I have read and meditated in a long time. Please leave comments on Sheldon’s original post, thanks.